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Friday, March 9, 2018

Sometimes we are so unkind and think such terrible things about ourselves that we allow the conversation to spill over to the piles of inanimate objects in our lives. We create entire monologues where we imagine that they speak about us and for us and it is soul killing. In the past couple of weeks, I watched as women who are articulate and intelligent and capable worry that the objects in their lives are speaking for them and saying truly awful things.

They believe that someone will judge them based on what their jean size says about them, or what their brand of shoes says, or what their well-worn sofas say. In the end, they don't believe that they can speak for themselves with the way that they carry themselves, or the way that they love deeply, or the way that they keep showing up every day. Showing up is a big deal, guys. It is a huge deal to keep showing up.

I hate to think that these women think that they are unworthy of being loved and respected and how often they just want to slink away because they think that the things speak louder than they do. I don't know who listens to those things but they are probably not worth worrying about if they spend that much time listening to things that don't actually speak.

For the record, I don't care what size jeans you wear. I don't care if you wear cheap shoes. I don't care if your couch looks like it was dropped off a cliff and scraped up and dumped into your living room. I have eleven children and I cannot even tell you what my children have done to my sofas over the years. Oh, actually I can.

My youngest daughters jumped on the sofa until the front legs came off and then kept jumping until the front edge collapsed days before the oldest boy was coming home for Christmas. I ran to Walmart and bought the cheapest little metal futon designed for skinny college kids who probably aren't home much. It ended up lasting a year but only when it was carried along with electric fence wire and duck tape and I am totally serious. We were sitting on a cage of electric fence wire because we are classy like that.

This is my sofa. Was. It has since been replaced but we are still us and I am still me. We are basically animals. I am the mother of children who jump on sofas until they are practically ground into dust. I will still invite you over and make you tea and coffee and visit and I won't worry about what your possessions say. I don't listen to things, I listen to you. I just want you guys to know that.

So, if you are the kind of person who cares more about people than things, come sit by me. We are going to get along just fine. If you care more about things, well, enjoy your things. I hope they are good company. If you get lonely, come sit with us. You are always welcome.

I'm Melissa

I am an Orthodox Christian, mother of eleven kids, and author. I like cooking, eating, and knitting. I also like to talk--to myself, to my kids, to my husband, to groups of people whether they are voluntary or involuntary audiences. When the thoughts in my head pile up too high, I write them down. I am the author of "Fasting as a Family" published by Ancient Faith Media. Pull up a chair and get cozy.